


Test Run

by Khiroptera



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khiroptera/pseuds/Khiroptera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Rumbelle Secret Santa 2k14 -- Belle tries to get some sensitive information out of Rumplestiltskin. Unfortunately, at that moment he's brewing a potion for a deal, and screws it up. At first, Rumplestiltskin pays no mind and wants to give it away as normal, but Belle's impulsive nature leads her to the obvious solution: test it first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Test Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoxyMoron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoxyMoron/gifts).



> This was my gift for roxymoron101 for the Rumbelle Secret Santa 2k14! Her prompt was "Dark Castle, flirting, potion making" and so my mind immediately went to "a potion makes them do it." Well, sort of. The concept is not original or unique in any way but I hope my attempt at flirty smut is enjoyable!
> 
> (Also, the excerpt Belle reads from her book right at the beginning -- absolutely about my OCs and also not an actual thing. I just needed a saucy novel for her to read and shoved them into this fic lol.)

_'The rain was pouring down in a thick curtain, the forest dominated by its harsh tapping and splattering. The sound would be a comfort to her, if it weren't for her circumstances, being stuck out here like this._

_At least he had found them a great, hollow log for shelter – for now she is curled up underneath it, his body too close and too far at the same time. In the coldness of the forest downpour, his body heat is felt despite the seemingly cavernous space between them._

_She rolls over to face him, arranging her dress so as to cover as much of her as possible. He's lying on the ground as well, facing away from her in typical chivalrous manner, and his curly black ponytail is within reach. A soft tug gets his attention, and he twists his head to see her._

“ _Yes, Juliet?” He wears a small smirk, and she glares at him for a moment._

“ _I know the forest is your home, Goodfellow, but couldn't you have picked a better shelter?” Juliet exaggeratedly wiggles around. “I can't get comfortable on this mulch.”_

“ _I would've taken you back to my own modest home, pretty one, but lest you forget, we were being chased by the king's men. I had to make due.”_

“ _We wouldn't have been chased if you hadn't stole me away,” she retorts. Now he rolls over, and his heat is overwhelming to her senses. The great space between them is now only a few inches, and she so desperately wants to close that gap._

“ _And you wanted me to steal you.” His breath ghosts across her face, her lips parting. He grabs her hand with his, her rich olive skin contrasted against his paleness as he threads his fingers between hers. “How could I not abide the wishes of a beautiful, flame-haired maiden of the court?”_

_Juliet shuffles herself closer to him, not bothering to be inconspicuous. “I know you, Goodfellow. You're one of the fae, a forest spirit in particular,” she breathes, “and I've always been told to never trust fae.” He moves a hand to her hip, pushing himself up against her body, and she arches against him with a sigh. “I don't often listen to what I'm told.” She feels his other hand cup her face, his head tilting further and further until their lips are an inch apart–'_

Belle nibbles her lower lip slightly, a blush creeping over her face. Her eyes dart around the tower room, finding Rumplestiltskin still working at his potions, focused as ever. He always did look rather handsome when he was focused on work... She shook her head harder, brows furrowing. Her boss was nice enough to look at, in a strange, unconventional way, but Belle knew better. She wasn't lusting after him, she was just lonely and looking to the only person near her for comfort.

Granted, this had been an issue for a few months now, but she still stubbornly refused to believe there was anything else going on. He was her friend, nothing more.

She glances at him again, her book still open in her lap. He'd been working on this particular potion for a few hours now, adding various components that Belle could not recognize despite her wanderings through the alchemical texts in his tower's library. Every now and then, she would come into his tower and leaf through the books he kept mainly for his spells and potions – just for curiosity's sake, she really had no desire to actually try her hand at either craft. On too many occasions she'd looked up from her spot on the hard wooden floor to find him standing over her, hours having passed by as she would read about the magical properties of plants like belladonna, hemlock and poppy seeds. It wasn't too long afterwards that she'd spotted a plush maroon chaise set up underneath one of the curtained windows, the one window that let the best light in for reading, in fact. Belle smiled to herself at this memory, this proof that he was comfortable with her presence in even one of his private spaces, and took a moment to lean back on the chaise in question.

The thoughts creep back, of his hands on her waist and her arms around his neck, their lips locked in a frenzied kiss, and she closes her book with a satisfying thump. Rumple doesn't even flinch, and she can't help but wonder if the Dark One has ever had these kinds of thoughts about someone he doesn't truly want. Debating whether it's even appropriate to ask, her curiosity wins out.

“Rumple, have you ever been with someone?” He froze for a moment, then continued with his potions as though nothing happened, a smirk on his face.

“I've been with many people. I'm with you right now, aren't I?” he replied, satisfied with this response, but Belle wouldn't have it.

“No, I mean... have you been with anyone _intimately_?” He froze again, this time looking up at her, an odd expression on his face before being masked with a giggle and a panicky grin.

“Why do you ask such questions, dearie? I don't see how that's any of your business,” he snapped, waving his hand as though he hopes it'll mute her or make her disappear, and Belle can't help but find the gesture more amusing than threatening. After all, if he was truly upset with her presence, he could simply use his magic to make her go away.

“Oh, I don't know,” she presses on with a smile. “You've been alive for so long, I can only assume you've at least _wanted_ someone at one point.” He ignores her, his face like stone, and Belle considers her next words.

“It's just that...” she pauses for a moment before blurting out, “I've been having these thoughts and I know they don't actually _mean_ anything but it's like every time I'm around you I want you to _touch_ me and I'm not sure if that's really normal since we're just friends and–”

He jerks nervously from her words, and in doing so he drops the bottle he was pouring straight into the mixing bowl. Bubbles form on the surface of the bowl before deep purple smoke starts to waft from it, and then the bowl overflows with a greenish purple liquid, spilling all over the table and floor. Belle's mouth hangs open before she throws her book to the chaise and rushes towards the table, whipping out a rag from her dress pocket.

She starts wiping up the mess, Rumplestiltskin standing there as though in shock, but the bowl continues to spill over, and soon her rag gets completely soaked by something Belle isn't even sure she should be touching with her bare hands. She tosses her rag to the growing puddle on the floor, shooting a desperate glance at Rumplestiltskin before watching the bowl slowly stop churning out the never-ending liquid.

“Rumple, I'm sorry,” she says quietly, looking up at his face, and he finally snaps out of his frozen stupor with a thin line on his lips before he waves off her apology with a hard smile.

“It's no matter. It's not for my use, it's for a deal I made with a noble a few lordships away.” He flicks his hand in the air, causing the mess to disappear, before tittering in his strange voice, “I'm sure it'll still work.”

“Wait,” Belle says, furrowing her brow at him. “You're still going to give it to him?”

“The effects might be a bit more... _extreme_ ,” he says, rummaging around his table before finding a single golden thread that he drops into the mixture. “But it will still be what he asked for.”

“You can't just give it to someone like this!” She puts her hand on the table in what she hopes was an assertive way. “Rumple, I will worry for the rest of my life if I indirectly caused someone harm.” He looks at her, frustrated.

“Well then, what would you have me do, dearie? Throw it out? Those ingredients were hard to come by, I'd rather not waste them.”

“Then why not test it first?” She quirks an eyebrow at him. “I'm assuming it's not a potion intended to hurt anyone...”

“Not that it matters to you,” he snaps, “but no, it isn't.” Belle can see in his eyes that he is panicking inside from her suggestion; she's lived with him long enough to tell when he's hiding something. Rumplestiltskin breaks his gaze from her and finds an empty vial, bringing the lip of the bowl to it. “It would be too dangerous for you if I tested it, however, so it'll just have to make do.”

“Dangerous for me?” What could he mean? Belle wonders at the thought – does it turn people into monsters? Perhaps the potion brings out the inner darkness in someone's heart? But what use would a nobleman have for that? She can't think of a good reason it would be dangerous, unless–

The sounds of a bottle being corked brings her out of her thoughts. “Wait!” She puts a hand on his arm. “Let me test it.”

His eyes go wide as he stares at her, before finally replying, “Belle, I can't let you do that.”

“You said it would be dangerous if _you_ took it. But I know you can protect yourself from _me_.” He shakes her hand off his arm, returning to the bottle and wrapping a ribbon around its neck, but Belle doesn't stand down.

“You don't even know what it does. I'm not giving any to you, dearie.” He smiles at her, but it's more out of mixed amusement and annoyance than anything else, and Belle can feel her lips tighten.

He turns away from her for just a moment, perhaps about to grab a label, and Belle takes her chances. She grabs the bowl and takes a quick swig from the leftover contents, ignoring Rumple's protests. The mixture runs thickly down her throat, tasting of red wine and melted chocolate, and she finds herself wishing for another taste before he snatches the bowl away from her lips.

He gives her a dirty look, glaring back and forth between her and the bowl, his fingers fidgeting as though he is anxiously waiting for something to happen. The corked bottle sits forgotten on the table, and Belle's eyes stray towards it as she too waits, though she can feel Rumplestiltskin's eyes on her.

A very long moment passes between them, filled with only silence and Rumple's wide-eyed nervous stare, until finally Belle yawns.

“I don't feel any differently,” she says, stretching her arms above her head. Rumplestiltskin finally moves to inspect the bowl's contents, glancing at the filled vial on the table.

“Odd,” he murmurs, bringing the vial close to his face, eyeing the thick dark purple-green liquid inside. “The effects should definitely have started by now.” He uncorks the bottle, sniffing the contents before pouring a small droplet of the mixture onto his index finger. She watches him hesitate for a moment before popping the finger in his mouth, and Belle finds her eyes wandering to his lips and tongue as he sucks the liquid off, thoughts of them elsewhere running through her head uninhibited. When her eyes look back up to his, he is staring intently at her, a confused expression on his face.

Belle could feel herself melt into his gaze, her body becoming warm, too warm. She barely notices when they're mere inches apart, something drawing them towards each other, and her hand grazes his vest's collar before he jerks himself away.

“Oh no...” Rumplestiltskin brings a hand to his temple, while the other is clenched in a fist, his whole posture stiff. “Belle, you shouldn't have drank the potion... and I shouldn't have either. You need to leave, go to your quarters.” He paces frantically, as if trying to force himself to remain occupied.

Belle takes a moment to collect herself, leaning against the alchemy table. She inspects her hands: nothing wrong there, no odd colors or shakiness. Her face feels so warm, and she realizes she's a bit flushed. She runs her hands over her neck and up to her cheeks, finding the action pleasurable, and thinks of how nice it would be to have Rumplestiltskin do that to her... and this time, she doesn't immediately shut the thought out. She plays it over and over in her head, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagines his mouth pressing kisses to her neck.

A small moan snaps her out of her fantasy, and she realizes with surprise that she was the one who uttered it. Her eyes dart over to Rumplestiltskin, who has also been snapped out of his pacing by the sound, briskly walking back towards her and grabbing her arm.

“I'm telling you Belle, leave now.” His eyes are growing darker, but he still seems like himself, and his fingers start to run against her arm before he pulls his hand back quickly, taking a half step backwards.

“Rumple, what does the potion do?” Her hands are still stroking her own neck, she realizes, and Belle forces them down to her sides reluctantly.

“It doesn't matter!” he snaps at her before turning away, and she knows that for some reason, he's scared. “You have to leave now, Belle, and be lucky I didn't drink as much as you did.”

“I...” Belle's mouth hangs open, and she takes a moment before stubbornly replying, “I don't want to.”

He stiffens, then slowly turns to face her, his eyes on ground. “That's just the potion talking,” he mutters.

“What does it do?” she repeats, and he looks up at her with a face that looks pained. It's a long moment before he replies.

“... It's meant to awaken the latent sexual desire of anyone who drinks it.” He eyes the bowl on the table. “It doesn't do much else other than that, but awakenings of feelings are a powerful thing.”

Rumplestiltskin stands there, arms at his sides, unmoving, and he seems so much like a normal man at this moment. Awakening of feelings? Is that what's happening here? And yet, Belle realizes with a sudden tightness in her chest, that is exactly what's going on. She'd been denying her feelings for him, both physical and emotional, pretending it was all just her loneliness and virginity playing with her mind.

Instead, as she knows now, she truly likes him, truly enjoys his company... and is truly attracted to his strange appearance. A genuine laugh bubbles out of her, and she notices him eyeing her warily, confusion in his features. Belle takes the few steps needed to stand before him, and he stands still as ever as she runs her hands up his vest to his collar, nervous energy coursing through her.

“Rumple...” she says with a small smile, and then she tilts her head up to his and gently, lightly, brushes her lips against his. He remains unmoving as her lips press against his, a little more firmly now, until she feels him suck her bottom lip into her mouth, and a jolt runs straight through her.

His hands tentatively hover at the sides of her waist, as if afraid to touch, but she is far more confident and grabs the lapels of his vest to pull him closer. Her lips slant against his, deepening the kiss and eliciting a moan from his throat that sends more electricity down her spine.

She presses her body closer to his, wanting to feel all of him fully, but he pulls away from her, taking a few staggering steps backwards.

“Belle, I can't... I won't do this to you.”

She gives a huff of frustration. “You said it yourself Rumple. It 'awakens latent desire', that means these desires were already in me!” She walks towards him, but for every step forward he takes one step back. “I just wouldn't let myself feel them. But now I want to. I want to feel you.”

His legs bump into the chaise, preventing him from moving any farther from her. She comes close to him, reaches a hand out to touch his cheek, but pauses as Belle comes to a horrifying realization.

“Unless... you don't want me back?” She withdraws her hand, feeling the guilt weigh down on her as he remains silent and staring. She forced him into a kiss! He may have kissed her back, but she never even asked him. And now here she was, backing him into a corner when he already pushed her away. She feels like the worst person in the world, able to threaten the very Dark One himself. Just as she's about to turn around and run out of the room in embarrassment and guilt, he finally responds.

“That's not it all,” he says, reaching out to grab her hand, though she can feel his fingers trembling. “...I want you. But I don't want to hurt you.” His voice sounds so human in this moment, the most sincere he could possibly be. “I don't want to take advantage of you.”

His words warm her heart, and she tightens her hand around his. Maybe it was the potion that was lowering their inhibitions, maybe it was the only reason they were admitting any of this to each other, but Belle couldn't find it in herself to care – not right now, anyway.

“I think I'd rather like it if you took advantage of me in this moment,” she says smoothly, but her face feels flushed with nerves as she reaches out to grab his hand and carefully place it on her waist. Her other hand comes up to cup his cheek, gently rubbing her thumb over the rough skin there – so similar to scales and yet not quite.

He remains still and silent, and Belle rolls her eyes. _'I'm really going to have to do all the work, aren't I?'_ she thinks to herself before pressing close to him, her breasts tight against his waistcoat. His lips part in a short gasp, and she smiles at him before leaning in to place a small kiss on his lips, which he returns immediately.

She still has her hand on his at her waist, and she molds his fingers to her side, thankful when she pulls away to find that he continues to grip her there. The hand on his cheek slides lower, touching his neck and tracing his jawline with her thumb, and she can feel his quick pulse just under her palm as she sucks on his lower lip. His other hand slides up and around her, pressing flat against her back, and she tilts her head to allow their kiss to deepen. Her arms wind around his neck, playing with his soft curly hair, and they stay like that for a while – his arms around her, their kisses turning long and deep and relaxed.

Belle knows she's not the most experienced when it comes to art of lovemaking, but she's kissed a few boys in her life. Her tongue peeks out from between her lips and traces the seam of his own. His shocked gasp allows her to slide her tongue between his lips, and the moment their tongues meet Belle feels her knees go weak. She carefully traces the inside of his mouth, and she finds herself reaching a new high when he returns the action, pushing forward into her own mouth. A groan rumbles in his throat, and she's sure she feels a certain part of him press quite firmly against her leg, to her satisfaction.

She pulls away from his lips, smirking at his lidded eyes, and places a hand on his chest. With a little push, Rumplestiltskin topples backwards onto the chaise, and Belle giggles at the picture he makes. The very Dark One himself, leather trousers tight and surprise etched upon his face, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, all for her.

He laughs as well, a hearty thing very unlike his common manic giggles, and quickly reaches up to grab her, pulling her down with him. He holds her tight as she laughs and pretends to struggle while he adjusts their positioning on the chaise, before she finally settles herself on top of him, reaching her hands up to stroke his face and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you were actually happy,” she says to him.

“Well,” he smiles briefly, considering his words, “I'm not unhappy.”

She hums with approval, then leans in to kiss him again. His hands run up and down her back before settling high up in her hair, and she can feel the tender way his thumbs rub against her temples as he kisses her sweetly. She returns his tenderness the best she can with her hands on his shoulders, and curiosity makes her move inwards to stroke at the exposed skin of his neck. Another rumbling moan emanates from his throat, and her kisses become more passionate, with hints of tongue and small nips of teeth, and she doesn't realize that she's been working to undo his vest until he grasps her wrists.

“Belle...” he whispers against her lips. “are you sure about this?”

“I'm very sure,” she replies, punctuating it with a hard kiss. “Are you?”

He takes a small breath, unsurety in his eyes, and Belle can hardly breathe. But then, he smiles rather wickedly at her, and she feels that familiar jolt of electricity run south, warmth pooling in her core.

“ _Very_.”

He flips them over suddenly, now pinning her to the chaise, and Belle bites her lip, sure her face is flushed red. His eyes flick towards the cleavage her blouse provides, and when he looks back at her his eyes are dark and carnal, filled with fire in their depths. Realizing that he was asking her permission, she takes his hand in her own and guides it to her breast, showing him how to touch. His hand is shaking almost imperceptibly, but he doesn't stop touching when she moves her hand to his hair and brings him to her neck. When she feels him place a kiss at the place where her neck and shoulder meet, a shudder of desire runs through her, encouraging him to lap and suck and nibble until her breathing gets shaky and harsh.

She barely has the sense of mind to notice when he starts plucking at the lacing of her dress, his spinner's hands eager to touch her bare skin, and she continues where she left off with his vest, as best she can withing the confined space. Her mind grows hazier when he moves up her neck to the space just under her jaw, and a moan escapes her as her legs start to entwine with his, rubbing her calves up and down the leather of his boots.

When her dress is finally loosened, Belle can't get it off herself fast enough. It's pushed down to her hips, exposing the thin white shift-like blouse she wears underneath. Rumple pulls back enough to look down at her breasts as he pulls the blouse down, exposing her breasts completely. A moan tears itself from her throat when he rubs his fingers lightly across her nipple, and he lowers his face slowly to her other breast to take it into his mouth. The sound of his own muffled moans interspersed with the feeling of his warm wet mouth and rough hands on her floods her senses, until she can't think anymore only feel.

The air is filled with their harsh breathing, the only sound in the room, as Belle pushes Rumple's vest off of his shoulders, forcing him to pull away to take it off fully. His loose silk shirt feels amazing against her skin, and she rushes her hands against the lacing of his trousers as he leans back and pulls the skirt of her dress upwards, letting it pool around her hips. He runs a hand sensually down her clothed thigh towards her center, causing her thin bloomers to magically disappear in its wake and leaving her legs – and certain other places – bare to his touch.

His hand is so close it's like torture, sitting at the very highest place on her thigh, and Belle can barely think, let alone plead for him to _please just touch her,_ but the longer he sits there staring and breathing the more she works up the ability to speak between breaths.

“Please... Rumple...”

His eyes jerk up towards her face, and if Belle thought they were dark before, then they were very nearly pitch black now. Without looking away, he moves his fingers to trace a line down her folds, and Belle's moan comes loud and sudden. Their gaze remains locked as he rubs her gently, testing her entrance with a finger and finding it wet and relaxed, ready for him. When he sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting her, Belle is vividly reminded of her earlier fantasy. _How real it all turned out to be..._

She feels something else press against her, and she breaks their connection to look down at the length of him. He wasn't the first she'd seen, but she noted the width of him – thick enough that she wasn't sure he'd fit. Her worries were relieved immediately when he slowly slid into her, almost effortlessly, and their moans intermingled in the quiet tower room as he sheathed himself fully inside her.

“Belle,” he gasped, pulling out agonizingly slowly, as though it hurt to leave, before pushing back inside quickly. He leaned over her, kissing her sloppily, and it only added to Belle's climbing pleasure. “Oh, Belle...”

“Rumple,” she whispered between kisses, his thrusts growing faster as her hands ran through his hair and clung to his back hard enough she was sure her nails slashed at the soft silk of his shirt. She felt one of his hands snake in between them to press at the small bundle of nerves hidden in her folds, and she felt herself climbing higher and higher. A small pinch finally undoes her, and her mind explodes with pleasure as she feels herself convulse deliciously below him, panting and moaning and crying his name over and over. His own thrusts grow erratic as he follows her over, smothering his groan into her neck before collapsing on top of her, spent.

She pets his hair and rubs up and down his back, trying to extend this moment for as long as possible before the inevitable discussion they will have takes place. The complete safety and comfort she feels underneath him like this is something she prefers to experience rather than ask herself just why it is the Dark One makes her feel this way. Rumplestiltskin breathes evenly, but when he turns his head to look at her she is worried about what he'll say.

“... So, do I have your permission to trade the potion, sweetheart?” He quirks an eyebrow at her.

The special endearment didn't escape her notice, as much as she could've sworn he blushed underneath his scales, and Belle smiles. “I think our testing shows that it works _perfectly_.”


End file.
